


Some Sort of Soulmate

by Bespokegarbage



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Cause its Remus, Gen, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Remus takes care of Logan, Soulmate AU, Swearing, Wingfic, well sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bespokegarbage/pseuds/Bespokegarbage
Summary: When your soulmate touches you for the first time, you each get your own super-power. Logan has never wanted a soulmate, but when his power comes in one day at the farmers. It's his worst nightmare.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy everyone, welcome to the dumpster pit I call my brain. Please let me know if I need to tag anything and let me know what you think!

Soulmates always seemed like a ridiculous phenomenon to Logan. While all the other children were fawning over their soul marks Logan was in the library, reading alone. Sometimes they’d ask him about his soul mark. Sometimes they’d shove him to the ground demanding to see his mark. This only served to drive him further away from the concept of soulmates. By the time he got to high school, Logan had yet to think about showing anyone his soul mark. He only got more reclusive when he went to university, hiding in the libraries for hours on end. When his friends one by one found their soulmates and left him, he tried to keep busy, finding that burying himself in work was the best way to distract himself from the clawing loneliness. 

His friends tried, of course they did, but Logan always seemed to be left out. The eternal king of being chosen last. So, Logan lived on, alone, until one fateful day.

The farmer’s market near his house is bustling on a beautiful fall Sunday. Logan pokes around, trying to find some reasonably-priced jam in the slew of bright vegetables. He meanders through the booths, looking around at the fall colours. He hears someone yelling in the distance and turns. As he does, he feels his hand brush against someone’s arm. He feels a sharp pain in his back that kept building and building until it was all he could feel, all he could think about. He could see dark tendrils creeping over his vision, his vision going fuzzy with the pain. Then, he passed out, flopping ungracefully onto the ground.

Eventually he wakes up face down on the cobblestones, an unusual weight on his back. Groggy, he tries to stand up, but his balance is off. Once he regains more of his mental faculties he realizes that there is something attached to his back, gently rustling in the breeze.

When Logan first sees them, all he can think of is how embarrassing they are. Big, awkward and unwieldy. He can see that his wings were enormous; they were mottled black and white with streaks of iridescence shining in the afternoon light. 

Noise from his surroundings distracts him from observing the enormous wings. There are people all around him and they are gaping, staring at him and at his wings. He can feel a flush creep up his face, ashamed and fearful all at once. His wings fluff up in anxiety, broadcasting his nervousness to everyone in the near vicinity. 

His eyes dart around, looking for a means of escape. Spying an opening in the crowd, he dashes through it, keeping his wings tucked as closely to him as possible. Breaking into a run, all he needs is to get away.

Logan is no longer paying attention to where he’s running. He keeps brushing his wings against people and objects as he passes, and it hurts but he can’t bring himself to care. His luck would not hold out it would seem as he runs headfirst into someone’s chest, his wings flaring out behind him.

“Whoa!” The man staggers back a few steps, bringing his arm up around Logan to keep him from falling over. “You know when people say they’re falling for me, they usually don’t mean literally” Logan can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’m just!” Logan pushes at the other man’s chest. He lets Logan go. “Sorry I!” Logan is panting from his run.

“What you need is to chill out” 

Logan looks around, ready to start running again. He tries to pinpoint where he is, but for the life of him he doesn’t remember this part of town at all.

“Hey dude,” the man has a frown on his face, “is someone chasing you? Do you need help or something? Your wings look pretty beat up”

Logan can feel all of the scratches and bruises on his wings, now that he has stopped to think, he can feel how much they sting. 

“How about this,” the man holds out his hands placatingly “my house is near here, we can go there, and you can tell me your deal. Plus, we can get your wounds treated.” 

“Why do you feel the need to help me?” Logan says, finally managing to get his breath under control. 

The other man makes a noncommittal noise. 

“I’ve been there,” he gives Logan a half smile. “Please, I just want to help.”

Logan pauses, then nods his assent. As he follows the other man to his home, he can’t help but curse his misfortune, his wings sagging sadly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus cleans Logan's wings so there is some mention of first aid and blood!

Remus kicks open the door with a bang. 

“JAY! I’M HOME.” He yells loudly to his housemate. “AND I BROUGHT A GUEST SO BE NICE.” Remus turns to the random guy. “I live here with my housemate Janus and our cat: stinky trash man.” Remus drags out a stool from the kitchen counter. “Sit here while I grab our first aid kid.”

The other guy sits, clearly sleepy after the rush of endorphins from running. Remus can see his wings settle around him like a soft, slightly bloody coat. Supressing a chuckle, he runs over to their linen closet where they keep the first aid stuff. He can see stinky trash man lounging on some of his teenage mutant ninja turtle sheets and gives the cat a scratch under the chin before he grabs the first aid kit. 

Making his way back to the other man, he passes through the kitchen and flips the switch on the kettle. Jay always says that if wine can’t fix your problems, then tea is the next best thing. 

He can see that the other man has fully passed out on the kitchen counter, his head pillowed on his arms.

He knows he should probably wake the man, but he looks so peaceful that Remus just leaves him be, puttering around the room while doing some chores. A few minutes later, he can see the man start to stir so he makes his way back over to the kitchen counter.

“How was your impromptu nap?’

Logan jolts up upon hearing his voice, no more traces of lassitude in his body. 

“It was fine” 

“My name is Remus.”

“Logan”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Well, we should probably take a look at those wings of yours” Remus tries to act normally, as if this wasn’t literally the most awkward he had ever been. Making his way to stand next to Logan, he gently stretches out a hand to gently pat at the fluffy wings. Startled, Logan pulls his wings in tightly to his sides.

“Sorry,” Logan blushes furiously and looks down at his hands. 

“No worries.” Remus stretches his hand out slowly towards Logan. “I’m just going to patch you up all right?”

Logan nods, still blushing and not making eye contact. Remus smiles lightly, gently grabbing at the wing. He can feel the muscles tensing, but they don’t pull away again. Maneuvering the wing so that it extends enough to see any damage, Remus immediately spots several large gashes on the leading edge of his wing. 

“Can you grab me the washcloth from the counter Lo?” Remus murmurs. Wordlessly, Logan grabs the washcloth and hands it to him. Remus hums lightly. “This may hurt Logan, try not to move to much alright?” 

Logan nods. Remus works quickly to clean the tacky blood off of his wings, removing broken feathers and twigs embedded in his feathers. Finishing on one side, he moves over to the other wing. He pauses, searching Logan’s face for any hint of discomfort. His face is carefully blank, his eyes faraway and glazed. Remus quickly finishes up his task cleaning the remaining wing as quickly and efficiently as possible. Remus pauses, knowing that he’s likely going to have to immobilize the wings so that Logan won’t hurt himself more. Frowning, he grabs several pads of gauze and some long bandages.

“Logan?” Remus pokes him in the shoulder but he barely responds. “Logan, I need to bandage your wings. I’ll have to immobilize them so they won't get any more hurt, Ok?”

Logan hums noncommittally, eyes still glazed over. Remus purses his lips, putting the large gauze pans over the gashes on his wing. Grabbing the long bandage, he wraps it securely around the wing, folding it securely against Logan’s side and tying it in place. Repeating this procedure on the other side, he looks over the wrapping, satisfied that it would hold. Tugging on Logan’s hands, he pulls Logan to his feet. Holding his hand, he brings Logan over to the large couch in the middle of his living room. Grabbing the largest blanket he and Jay own off the couch, he wraps Logan up in it like a burrito and beckons him to curl up on the couch. Logan lays down gently, curling up into a ball as much as he could with reduced movement. 

“Logan, do you want me to sit with you?” Remus asks, still standing to the side. Although he could not see Logan’s face clearly, he could see Logan’s nod. Laughing lightly, he sits down next to the Logan-burrito. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Could we watch a documentary?”

“Sure Lo.”


End file.
